Orcborn
by Daniel K. English
Summary: "Let the two be one." A college student finds himself stuck in an orc's body. And that's the good news. This is his journey to help the Dragonborn and the rest of Skyrim.
1. Chapter 1

CHOSEN - 1.1

I noticed first how dark it was. I was indoors, someplace dim. There was not a window nor a light anywhere I looked.

I noticed next that I was lying on something hard and uncomfortable. Itchy rope dug into my wrist as soon as I tried to get up. My legs too were bound. I tested my range of movement and figured out a way to sit up. When I did a sense of lightheadedness made me lay down again. How long was I out if I couldn't even sit up without feeling awful?

I had no idea. What else could I figure out?

Wherever I was, the air circulation was poor. The air was warm and stale. I couldn't tell if the room was sealed off completely or not.

I tapped the floor. Hard. Rough. Stone, I guessed.

I pulled the rope around my wrist until it tensed. Moving my arm at the maximum range, I guessed the general direction where the rope anchored or curved. I couldn't calculate how far it was—my math was quite rusty. Still, the way the rope resisted my pulls told me all I needed to know: I was stuck here till whomever put me here came back. But that could be for days, even weeks. My mouth was still moist, so I assumed I hadn't been here for more than a few hours.

I sat there for what must've been a thousand years before I heard the soft patter of footsteps.

The flickering light of a torch—the wooden kind—revealed the figure of a man in heavy robes. From the light I saw the walls. I was in a cavern of some sort. The man dipped his torch in a brazier and soon several of them cast the cave in an orange glow.

Fucking shit. This place was nasty.

I was sitting at the center of the cavern where an honest-to-God circle of blood surrounded me. The ropes that bound my limbs wound around pulleys installed at the far corners of the cave. Skulls of bulls, deer, birds and humans decorated everywhere else.

Others shuffled into the room. They carried props around, organizing in a surprisingly efficient fashion. I saw a few chat and laugh.

One man, with his hood down, approached me. With his greying hair and beard, I would've pegged him for someone's grandfather. He even smiled like one.

"You're awake. Good evening," he said.

I raised a brow. Not the greeting I expected. "Good evening. I guess."

"Are you thirsty?"

"Not really. A bit hungry, though."

His eyes glinted with amusement. "We'll be having dinner after the ceremony. Roast pork and fish. Cheryl went all out. Please wait until then."

O-kay? Who was this guy? "Umm. Any chance you can untie me?"

"No. You will be the first of us to find immortality."

"I... what?"

"We heard Lord Sargoth in our dreams. Today is the day."

What the fuck? Did I... did I accidentally piss off an Eldritch god or something and bring its cult down on me? The expression the man wore was nothing short of bonafide reverence. It was making me quite nervous.

"I'd... rather stay mortal if you don't mind. Mortal and alive."

"The Lord has chosen. His word is absolute."

Damn.

He turned away. When I said these cultists were quick, I meant it. In the four or so minutes since they came in, they had everything set up. They sat in circles around me. I spotted faces hidden beneath their hoods. Age, gender and ethnicity varied, but they shared one similar feature: they seemed to believe.

Gramps addressed his colleagues. "No sermon. Today is our day.

"Let us begin."

The ropes pulled taut. I was splayed out on the floor like a dead frog in science class. Gramps gagged me with a wad of cloth. I noticed the knife in Gramps's hand. It was an odd-looking one. Large and jagged like a lightning bolt. What was etched on the bl—oh, stainless steel.

The others began a low chant. It took a minute for me to understand what they were saying.

_Let the two be one._

"You'll do us proud, son," Gramps said. He raised the knife.

Fuck. I wasn't a fan of sharp things, especially when pointed at me.

_Let the two be one. Let the two be one. Let the two be one._

Then the knife plunged downwards and I woke up.

xxx

Well that was a shitty dream.

I sat up and why the fuck was I sleeping outside?

Oh, right. That fucking bandit got a lucky shot off and hit me with an arrow. I treated the wound but it still hurt like shit. And then I had set up camp so I could rest till dawn so I'd have enough strength to get to Falkreath in the morning.

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait.

That was all wrong. I had class today. Anthropology and history. I stayed an extra half hour at the library since the local high school kids dismissed at the same time and I hated sharing a bus with loud brats. It was about five when I got off my stop. Then—shit. The cultists. The old man. The knife. I remembered the knife piercing my chest. Who the fuck does that? Murder for immortality, I mean. At least they could've chosen something mainstream so I knew what to argue about.

Fucking shit. At least I knew where I was.

Wait. How did I know where I was?

Falkreath? As in Skyrim? The one in fictional world of Tamriel?

I looked around and all I saw were trees. A light fog made it difficult to see the blue sky. And it was cold.

What the fuckery was happening?

I lived in New York City. I didn't explore the city a lot. The Bronx, as far as I knew, didn't have any woodlands in it. At least not in my neighborhood. But that meant—oh dear.

My hand was quite dark. Dark, big and rough.

This was not my hand.

Both hands were not my hands.

Neither were my feet, my legs, my arms nor the rest of my visible body. And fuck, where were my clothes? Granted, this fur... coat was quite warm, but it wasn't anything like my wool coat. And where these boots? The sole was practically non-existent! I would not stand for foot infections. How the fuck was I supposed to walk with these?

I found a sharp but old-fashioned combat knife nearby and saw my face.

Fuck me. I was an orc. Dark green skin, bottom canines like small tusks. Bright yellow eyes. I looked like a monster. What scared me the most was that I was alright with it.

This wasn't my face. I was human!

At the same time, this was my face. I was an orc.

Then everything jumbled up like a box of jigsaw puzzle pieces. I hit the ground with a migraine the size of Texas.

It was like having dreamt my whole life. On one hand, there was the life I had lived. On the other hand, there was the life I had dreamed I had lived. Both lives were so different, and yet both lives I couldn't deny.

It wasn't an existential crisis of any sorts: it was the exact opposite, and that was infinitely worse.

Malkus the Rage was raised by an argonian traveler named Seeks-the-Sun. Seeks-the-Sun was an intellectual, a warrior-scholar; he raised his surrogate son to be the same. And when Seeks-the-Sun died, Malkus lost himself in his grief. He became a bounty hunter and a mercenary to lose himself in combat.

Dan was an American-born Chinese boy with immigrant parents. He was a bright boy, full of life and intelligence. But as he grew older, the circle of friends he once surrounded himself with shrank until he was but a shadow of his former self. Self-confidence issues stemming from his heritage, his lack of achievement and his non-existent social life turned him into an apathetic young man, full of dreams but with none of the drive to fulfill them.

Both these lives mixed into an amalgam of disconnected memories and distorted voices. They clashed, opposing forces seeking to annihilate the other.

I remembered an argonian, big and athletic, teaching me how to swing a blade.

I remembered a man in his fifties, apologizing inside the ambulance.

A life was a life. Every life exchanged its time for experience until it reached a breaking point. Or death. These experiences we accumulated were unique. I couldn't throw any of them away. They were mine. These _lives_ were mine.

Let go of the rage. You're just running away.

Let go of the cowardice. You're just wasting yourself.

Find peace. Use mine.

Find courage. Use mine.

I took a deep breath as the chaos in my head began to settle. It was sorting out. I was neither Malkus nor Dan but a combination of both.

Let the two be one.

Was this the intent of the cultists' ritual? No, it wasn't. The old man had a different intent in mind.

This was my result. I felt... a strange sense of satisfaction from it. Demons I never knew I had, were never even aware of, were gone, replaced with serenity. Clarity. Something that could have only been done by having another presence point out the other's flaws and fixing them. Holy fucking shit I felt awesome.

I managed to stand on wobbly feet.

I check my reflection on the knife. Thankfully I hadn't fallen on it. The knife—Malkus's last memento of Seeks-the-Sun—showed my face, orc and all. This didn't feel entirely natural, but there was a consensus of sorts between both halves of me. That and it was highly unlikely I'd find a way out of this body short of dying.

Not perfect. Just good enough.

The soreness in my left pectoral bothered me. An arrow wound from a bandit Malkus had encountered yesterday. No poison. It'd take time to heal.

I looked around. Yes, this was the forest west of Falkreath.

I needed to find a place to rest. Preferably somewhere without the dangers of wild animals or highwaymen. I gathered Malkus's bedroll, hatchet, knife and pack with a bit of difficulty and set off to where the road should have been.

When I found that bandit's bloodied corpse, I found myself grinning.

Malkus had already looted his gold. I grabbed the bandit's bow, quiver, arrows and boots. He wouldn't be needing them.

I was in _Skyrim._ It didn't feel wrong at all.

* * *

><p><em>an: I'm aware of this website's general aversion to self-inserts, which is why I'm posting this with great reluctance. But seeing that the more vicious elements of SB's creative writing forum has not yet murdered my posts there, I'm giving FF dot net a try._

_With crossed fingers._


	2. Chapter 2

CHOSEN - 1.2

"Halt, orc!" the guard said.

I stopped. Unlike in the game, the guards weren't uniformly dressed. At least not as much. They wore sashes over their chainmail or chestplate with their Hold's color, but only one of them wore the iconic guard full helm. The other settled with a chain coif and a scarf. But both did have swords at their waists and circular shields at their backs.

The guard that stopped me took a good look at me.

"What is your business here?"

"Food. Rest. I met a bandit up the road. He got an arrow in me."

"And how many were there?"

"I found just one. I don't know if there are others."

It seemed like he was just after information. He nodded. "Very well," the guard said. "Talk to Valga at the Dead Man's Drink if you're interested in rounding those bandits up. They been causing us all sorts o' trouble as of late."

"Sure. Good day."

I glanced upwards at the top of the wall, where four more guards armed with bows waited. One of them nodded at me as I entered town. I waved back.

Walking to the tavern got me a few curious stares. Not many orcs around, I guessed.

Something else I noticed: Falkreath was a fuckton bigger than it was in game. More buildings, more homes, more guards and more people. I actually got lost for a moment and had to ask a guard for directions. I went like this:

"Err, guard? Sir?"

The guard's hand went for his sword.

"Uh, no. Don't worry, I'm friendly." He relaxed just a bit. "I'm lost. In which direction is the tavern?"

The guard had the decency to look sheepish. "Oh. Sorry. Lots of bandits these days. Can't be too careful." He pointed in a direction. "Tavern is that way, then to your right and straight ahead. There'll be a big sign hanging at its door."

"Thanks. Good day."

So I didn't roll the best racial choice. Skyrim had its Stormcloaks. Too bad, really. I didn't mind being an orc, not after fusing (I think) with Malkus.

But back on track. When I finally found Dead Man's Drink—it was near the town entrance—there was a crowd gathered at the steps. They looked like mercenaries. Bounty hunters, maybe?

There was a man standing at the tavern's porch.

"—in the forest. Anyone who can clear 'em out 'll get the bounty."

"How much is it?" one asked.

"Eighty pieces."

Not a lot. But from Malkus's memories, it was a fair deal. Two coins bought a loaf of bread, three a drink, and seven a bowl of stew. An eighty-piece job would end with twenty-six pieces a man, or eighty for anyone daring enough to do it alone. Malkus often did his bounties alone.

The crowd dispersed. I went inside.

The tavern was quite animated. It was more of a restaurant than a modern tavern. There were drinkers, yes, but the proportion of drinkers to all the patrons were low. A number of visitors were here to hang out. When I went in, several pairs of eyes turned to me. I ignored them and headed straight to the bartender.

"Bread and stew."

"Ten pieces," said the barlady as she pulled out a hunk of bread from the shelf.

Eleven clattered on the counter. "A bit of cheese, too."

She didn't seem to like that, but stuck a chunk of it in the bread. Another lady carried a steaming bowl of dark stew from the oven in the back.

I grabbed a chair and ate.

The bread was hard. After a bite I took a mouthful of stew—a bit salty, but delightfully warm—and stuck the bread and cheese in the bowl. The cheese melted and the bread softened. I finished the stew, wiped the bowl with my bread and ate the rest of the thing. I decided not to eat any more until I sold off the bandit's crap.

I left the tavern and got directions from another guard to the blacksmith.

Some walking and a turn later, I heard the sound of a hammer striking an anvil.

"Lod, was it?"

Lod glanced up from his forge. "Yeah?"

I showed him the bow. It wasn't in the best condition, though I could use it for hunting. "How much will you buy this for?"

He looked at it. "Eight."

"Nevermind. What about this?" I pulled out the bandit's hide armor.

"Forty," he said after examining it.

I sold it and ended up buying some armor pieces to cover Malkus's meager furs. An iron chestpiece, iron bracers and helm (without those horns) later and I felt moderately protected. Lod threw in a sword. I walked in with one hundred and forty-three gold pieces and left with barely over fifty. A trip to the general store later—I found it myself!—and I was broke. Funny that Malkus had earned nearly nine hundred from bounties and loot not three days ago. Suffice to say, he hadn't been very good at spending his money.

xxx

I ended up working out a deal with the barlady, who happened to be Valga. I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening chopping firewood behind the inn for a free night and a meal. It was more tedious work than tiring. It was all hardwood, but the logs split in one to three swings anyway. Orc physiology must've been different. I knew they were strong by comparing Malkus's memories of fighting and general life to what I've seen when I was still just Dan. Any human doing this would've stopped halfway from the back pain.

The work kept me warm even after the sun set. Valga greeted me with a smile after I hauled in enough firewood to last weeks.

Note: there was a single firepit at the center of the tavern for warmth. The oven in the back was for cooking. According to Valga the pit used about forty logs to burn all day. Narri, the servant in the inn, told me the oven used about eight. I wasn't acquainted with the science of burning wood, but I thought that was a lot of wood.

Anyway, after Narri dropped bread, stew, cheese, fruit and a bite of meat in front of me—guess I earned some appreciation points from Valga—I found the inn wasn't as empty as I thought it'd be. Apart from myself, there was another patron sitting at one of the long tables.

I guessed the stranger to be a woman from the figure. Leathers didn't hide the body much.

I sat at a table a small distance from her and ate. Did I mention how much better food tasted after a day of menial work?

Before I retreated back to the room Valga left me, I snuck a glance at the stranger.

Dunmer.

Her eyes, blood red, met mine briefly before I shut the door behind me.

I didn't know how to recognize Dunmer beyond eye color, hair style and voice, but I did wonder for a moment if that Dunmer was Jenassa.

xxx

I was awoken in the middle of the night by sounds outside my door.

My armor was on in a minute. I kept the hatchet in one hand and the sword in the other. I stayed behind the door when I opened it. There was a fight. I didn't think Valga would still be here. Maybe Narri. A part of me wanted to jump in; the other wanted to plan first.

The latter won. I checked who the combatants were.

The Dunmer from before. Jenassa? She was outnumbered, fighting off three large nords.

Her opponents were in mixed armor. Most wore metal pieces on their vital parts and had fur or hide elsewhere. One man lay dead on the floor.

When I stepped out, maybe-Jenassa spun to me, ready to cut my throat out with one of her daggers. Upon seeing who I was, an orc in relatively heavy armor, she hesitated. The nords were backing her into a corner and I was likely the deciding factor of the fight. And... how do I say this? It didn't seem like bathing was as important as it was in the United States. These Nords stank up the place. They smelled like beer, piss and vomit.

Why would I mention that? Because that was how bandits usually smelled like.

I crunched up the facts in my head. I charged at the Nord standing near the pit and shoved him in the fire. He struggled for a moment. He parried my hatchet swing with his greatsword but I shoved my sword into the gap in his chestpiece under his arm and smothered him in the flames.

Screams filled the tavern as he let go of his weapon.

I saw maybe-Jenessa holding off the other two bandits. I chucked my hatchet at the closest one. Didn't work, of course. It bounced off his shield. The hatchet did distract him for a moment, letting maybe-Jenessa dive into his guard and stick a dagger in his throat. He fell with a wet choke. I clocked the burning man's chin and he dropped like a brick into the pit.

By the time I wrestled the burning man's greatsword from him, Jenessa had killed the last guy.

"Was that everyone?" I asked.

"I believe so," maybe-Jenessa said. She wiped off her daggers with one of the bandit's furs. "They came in not a moment ago. Thank you for you assistance, sera."

I got a good look at her when she stood. Her brows, facial features and general appearance was the same as any human's. Her skin tone was a lighter shade of blue-green. Sure, she had those pointed ears and that green-blue skin tone, but my time on the Internet made those features rather tame. Her red eyes searched for something and seemed satisfied.

Never noticed the earrings or facepaint before, though.

"I am Jenessa," she said. Ding!

"I am Malkus." I glanced at the burning man and pulled my sword out of him. It was odd how composed I felt. Apart from the adrenaline, I didn't care much for having killed a man. A part of Malkus's influence, I guessed. "Were all the town guards drunk tonight or something? That fight wasn't exactly quiet."

Jenessa's expression turned grim. "No, it wasn't."

She went into a room—her room, I discovered—and emerged with a large compound bow and a quiver of arrows. I retrieved my own arrows and handed them to her.

"You're better off using them," I explained.

She examined them. "Fair enough."

I grabbed the shield off a dead bandit and had my sword in the other hand. Slowly I eased the door open, keeping the shield up in case it was a trap.

It wasn't. Outside we heard the sounds of battle.


	3. Chapter 3

CHOSEN - 1.3

I caught an arrow on my shield not even after a step outside.

A whistle passed my ears and the archer—a woman in hide with a bad hair cut—went down. I moved slowly, counting on Jenessa's eyes and bow to cover my flanks.

The cold air smelled of blood.

There were bandits and guards fighting everywhere. I smacked a half-naked nord with my shield and cut him down. Jenessa was like a force of nature, sniping down the unarmored bandits with frightening precision. We were methodical, sweeping each street before moving to the next. I had to change shields twice with a corpse's since they ate lots of arrows.

"Over there," Jenessa whispered.

I looked and saw about a dozen guards clashing with twenty or so bandits. It was a bloody melee. A few of the townsfolk joined in but all that did was even out the numbers. For bandits they were rather well-equipped. Full heavy armor or nearly there. The guards were doing great, really. They held the bandits at a choke at about five men across. The archers at the backline still had arrows, but they didn't fare so well against heavy armor.

"That won't work out," I said. "The bandits have the advantage. Better equipment and more men. We need either a group to flank them or..."

Well, duh. "Jenessa, can you pick off their archers?"

She smiled. "Of course."

"Great. I'll be right back."

I got back to the inn and grabbed a few bottles of alcohol. Not the mead. The hard alcohol that got nords drunk in a sip. I hoped those drinks had a high enough alcohol content. I tore strips of paper from one of the few books lying around and stuffed them inside. (The burning man didn't seem to spread fire, but I threw him into the pit just in case.)

When I got back, the guards were being pushed further into the city.

Jenessa was picky about her shots. She had plenty of arrows and nothing good to hit. There was a bandit that wasn't there before face down in the ground next to her.

Oh well.

I lit up a bastardized molotov cocktail—please work!—and threw it at the bandits.

The bottle shattered and the alcohol exploded. Well, not _exploded._ The alcohol caught fire as the bottle broke on one of the bandits' helmets. That bandit and the few next to him screamed at the flames and peeled away, desperately beating down the fire. This was something armor couldn't protect them from. I threw another bottle, and another. The bandit party began to break apart. Jenessa scored a few kills on the ones that had to strip their armor. The guards saw their chance and pressed forward, breaking the bandits' formation.

I stopped throwing then. I was almost out anyway and didn't want to hit any of the guards. Instead I took out the greatsword I had nicked earlier and jumped in.

I understood Malkus's need to fight while in that melee. It was easy to get lost in bloodlust.

Dawn broke when the bandits left.

xxx

It turned out that whole fight was just a raid. The dead were scattered left and right. I helped the guards gather the wounded and find the dead. Deceased guards were dealt with first. Dead bandits were left out until then.

"What are you doing?"

I looked up. Jenessa was watching me from afar.

"Looting. The guards said I could." I showed her the pieces I salvaged. From the bodies scattered around town, I scrounged up a full shirt of chainmail, enough plate to cover my arms and legs, and a solid steel chestplate to replace the iron one I had broken. "Not bad, huh? I found a few intact leather pieces if you want them."

"That... will not be necessary."

"Oh. Well. Suit yourself. Or not." I rummaged and found a nice steel shield.

"You are... very different from what your appearance suggests," she said. I wasn't sure if that remark was aimed at me being an orc. I shrugged.

"I do what I feel like. Within reason, of course."

She nodded once.

I stood and paced around to test how my armor set up moved. It worked rather nicely. There were gaps between pieces—that was what mixing and matching did—but they weren't such a glaring weakness.

"The bounty hunters that left yesterday are dead. I saw some of their gear on the corpses."

"Yeah. I noticed."

"The bounty for clearing out the local bandits population is still available," she said.

"I didn't consider you a bounty hunter."

She smiled toothily. "I deal with whatever makes death. Within reason, of course."

"Great. I happened to be dirt broke."

xxx

"I can't believe you threw that man into my firepit!"

I fidgeted under Valga's glare. "He was in the way. And it was convenient."

"No excuses! Did you know how difficult it was to get the smell out?"

"No ma'am."

"I swear, the only reason I'm keeping you around is because you can chop wood worth a damn!"

"Yes ma'am. Sorry ma'am."

Narri chuckled softly.

Valga herded me outside and ordered me to chop wood for the rest of the day. I went through half the basement's dry wood supply before she let me back in.

On an unrelated note, Helgen was still standing.

xxx

It was a stereotype to believe bandits were all a bunch of dumbasses. They were criminals, yes. Unfortunately not all criminals were idiots.

Jenessa and I scouted the forest for days. No sign of any hideouts.

We _did_ find a half-dead argonian.

"An orc and a dunmer. Are you a sight for sore eyes," he hissed.

"One of the bounty hunters." Jenessa studied the cuts in the lizardman's arm. "He was tortured."

"Horseshits ambushed the lot of us. Caught me and a couple others, killed the rest. We escaped when they left, but the others got caught. Didn't think they'd come back so soon." The argonian swallowed. "You have water?"

I lent him my waterskin. He took deep gulps.

"We'll get you back to Falkreath. Remember the way back to the hideout?" He nodded. Not that I would have abandoned him if he didn't. I pulled him up and found he was taller and larger than I was. I guessed myself to be six and a half feet tall and over two hundred pounds. The argonian was easily seven feet and two-fifty pounds. Lucky he didn't have his armor. "Cool. C'mon, you scaly bastard. Can you stand? Or walk?"

"I am fine."

"These bruises disagree." Jenessa prodded one. He cursed. She smiled. "See? Not so fine."

"I'm surprised they didn't kill you... uh, I didn't get your name."

"Madeekus."

"Malkus. And Jenessa."

"They didn't kill me because I killed the guard after the rest of them left." He frowned. "How did you know I wasn't a bandit, anyway?"

"The bandits are nords only." Jenessa took a deep breath. "And you don't smell _that_ badly."

"Is she always like this?" Madeekus asked.

I tried to shrug. "Dunno. But she _is_ pretty good at killing."

xxx

We dropped Madeekus off at Falkreath and fished for information from him.

"The west," he said from his bed. "In the forest."

"No shit. Where in the forest?"

"Near the trees." He laughed. I sighed.

My exasperation was enough to start talking. "Look, the forest looks the same to me. I can't give you any distinct details. What I can do is lead you back."

"You mean after you're healed."

"We argonians heal quickly. If you can get me replacements for my gear, I'll lend you a hand in taking those bandits down." I told him then that I was broke. "I do recall the city was attacked by those bandits. Didn't you kill anyone?"

Right. They could loot corpses, too. "Fine," I said, "but I'll warn you—"

"I won't run or backstab you or anything."

"No, that's not what I— well, I'd appreciate that, too. But that's not what I was saying. It was hard enough to scrounge any armor off those bodies. It'll be even harder for you."

He shrugged. "I'll make due."

It was there I talked to him about what to expect. He gave me what details he could—not like he could hear everything from his little cell—but what he did know told me how much of a pain the hunt would be. Having a mage around would have made this a lot easier. Malkus, unfortunately, lacked the aptitude to be a mage. Two warriors and a ranger would have to do.

xxx

"I would like to talk to you for a moment."

I was in the room Valga had lent me at the Dead Man's Drink. A look into Malkus's memories told me to maintain my weapons. I was cleaning my greatsword with a rag when Jenessa entered. Her expression was unusually solemn.

"Shoot," I said.

She seemed confused. "Pardon?"

"It means 'go ahead'. In this context, at least."

"I see. I wanted to ask you about that argonian."

I set the flat of the sword on my lap. "Something wrong?"

"Did it occur to you that the argonian might be a bandit in disguise? I believe it too convenient that one who knows what we're after to have appeared in the middle of the forest."

I thought for a moment.

"Maybe. But following that same logic, you could be a bandit as well."

She stiffened. "That would not be the case."

"Well, you seem to like killing."

"Dealing death is an art. That is different from being a lowly bandit."

From what I knew about Jenessa in the game, I knew about her odd attraction to murder. And death. Really, she'd be a fine Dark Brotherhood assassin. But really, knowing about it and seeing it for myself were two separate things entirely. I shook my head. "I didn't mean to offend. It's just—we don't have many options here. At least nothing I can think of right now."

She agreed hesitantly. "I suppose we don't."

"You can keep an eye on him if it makes you feel any better."

The smile she wore made me shudder.

"It would please me so."

And then I got curious. "That said, why aren't you questioning me? About being a bandit, I mean."

She stared at me. "If you were a bandit, you would have attacked me that night. It would have not done you any good not to. But you helped me. That is enough proof for me."

"I could be," I piped.

A shake of her head, a roll of her eyes. "_Anyone_ can choose to be. Good night."

A word of hers clung to be after she had left: choose.

Choice. A decision.

Having assimilated Malkus, I have been going along with everything—the change, the bounty, the raid. I never took a step back to think about how my actions might affect the rest of Skyrim. Now that I did, though, what could I expect?

I was an orc now. In part, I was even a native. A battle-hardened orc with a wealth of knowledge and experience in living in Tamriel. The other part of me, the human side that had played the game to death, was far from native. Hell, that part was still nervous about having killed someone. Maybe I was thinking too highly of myself, but surely a presence like mine would have drastically affected the fate of the Dragonborn.

_Or was I the Dragonborn?_

No, I wasn't.

I hadn't seen Alduin. Helgen wasn't a smoldering ruin. Ulfric had not been captured by Imperial forces. As far as I was concerned, that possibility passed the moment I stepped into Skyrim.

But if I wasn't Dragonborn, what was I?

I—the Dragonborn was roped into his or her journey, and in a way I was roped into this one. But just how the Dragonborn did things, I had choices, too.

In a way, I had a vast freedom that the Dragonborn doesn't have.

That was good. Options were always good. And it was also scary. The only reason I didn't shrink back from being overwhelmed by my own revelation was because of Malkus's influence. His "courage over cowardice" balanced Dan's "peace over anger". I fell back on these two pillars, letting them be my only anchors to the open sea that was now my life.

With these thoughts in mind, it took me a while before I could fall asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

CHOSEN - 1.4

True to his claims, Madeekus was in top condition the following morning.

We had to get Lod to fit the steel armor we scrounged up for Madeekus. It wasn't too much work, relatively speaking. He was suitably geared up by the afternoon. After a meal at the Dead Man's Drink ("You owe me a day of firewood for this," said Valga.) we set off into the forest with Madeekus taking point. I was the rear guard.

"You sure you don't want a shield?" I asked.

Madeekus guffawed. "Don't need a board. And those horseshits are terrible with bows."

He handled his greatsword with ease, swinging it about in a way that made Jenessa flinch.

"Cease your reckless swinging before you take an arm off."

"As long as that arm ain't mine, I don't care."

"Then maybe I should shove my knife up your—"

Oh, nightshade! Malkus wasn't much of an alchemist, but Dan had a curiosity about alchemy and everything magical. Seeks-the-Sun taught Malkus bits of alchemy, and that was enough for me to recognize a few plants. I picked a few nightshade, vaguely remembering they could be used for... fortifying potions?

When I got back up—hard to do in heavy armor—I found Madeekus and Jenessa watching me oddly.

"What?"

"That was once in a lifetime," Madeekus muttered.

"I did say he was _different._"

"What?"

"I just saw an orc in heavy armor _picking flowers._" The argonian chuckled and shook his head. "Once in a lifetime, I swear."

Jenessa's mouth curled upwards just a bit. "Certainly. I'll remember it."

The two of them continued walking.

Smug bastards.

xxx

After what must've been forever, we finally reached―what I supposed was―the bandit's nest. I knew so because it smelled like one. It was a cave leading underground, hidden behind a few brushes on a hill off the road. No wonder we couldn't find it.

I peered into the hole. "So… what can we expect in there?"

"Bandits. Beer. Shit. And a few bodies in the deepest caverns."

Jenessa smelled the air and gagged. "Sounds homely," she said, voice strained. "I'm impressed you got out of there smelling as you did."

"I'm surprised I got out at all."

"We won't get paid standing here dissing these fellows. Maddy, anything else we should know?" The argonian looked at me like I had grown another head. "Hurry up. Some lucky bastard'll catch wind of us if we're here for too long."

"The caverns branch out often. Keep an eye out for anyone trying to hide."

"And for any traps," Jenessa added.

"Listen for ambushes, don't trigger traps, and don't step in the shit. Got it." I made sure the straps on my shield were tight before I headed in.

"And make sure you stay quiet," Jenessa hissed as she followed.

"Yeah, yeah. They won't even know I'm heEEEAAAAAAAAH!" A white-hot nail snuck in between the gaps in my greaves, penetrating the leather and the skin beneath. I staggered forward, not quite balancing on the edge of my shield. There was a crossbow bolt buried in my leg. As my scream echoed through the cavern, I yanked the bolt out. There was blood coating about a third of the projectile. "Who the _fuck_ rigs the entrance? I mean, what the fuck, man?"

Madeekus reached over and dragged me out of the cave.

"Your shield," he said.

I looked at it. There were feces smeared on the lower half. Probably from when I fell forward. "Ah, fucking shit. I am _not_ taking point ever again."

Jenessa tensed. She drew her bow and loosed an arrow into a bush. There was a cry.

"Ambush!" she hissed.

Bandits came out from everywhere. Three came out from the bushes around us. Their cloaks were the color of the forest, and the amount of twigs and leaves covering their leathers made them invisible until now. Several of them dropped from the trees before training bows at us. The rest rushed out from the cave. We were surrounded.

The bandit Jenessa shot emerged from the brushes later, an arrow protruding from his shoulder. It was a shallow wound.

Did I mention how much of a stereotype it was to consider all bandits to be dumbasses?

What one would expect after a bunch of goons step out in an ambush would be some gloating. Maybe a speech, and definitely that you're-totally-fucked declaration.

They didn't. No, instead the bows thrummed. The arrows whistled as they sailed at us.

I caught a couple of arrows on my board covering Jenessa, trusting Madeekus's armor and natural regenerative ability to keep him alive. An arrow bounced off my helmet, and two more hit my back. I praised whatever fucking Divine was looking after me that these bandits really didn't know how to aim. Maybe telling Jenessa to snipe down their archers during their last raid was a better move than I anticipated. No time to train new archers.

"Fucking shitheads!" Madeekus shouted. I saw an arrow in his arm. He ran at the closest bandit. I wasn't sure how he'd fare against these guys. He got beaten once, after all.

"Take down their archers," I said to Jenessa before leaving to help Madeekus.

I ignored the burning of my leg as I ran, shit-stained shield up. An arrow pinged off my shield, another off my armor. Others zoomed past me. The first bandit that came in range I bashed with a shield before I stabbed with my sword.

Another miracle: the bandits here weren't as well-equipped as they were in the raid. I suspected the cocktails I used during the raid damaged the armor most of the escapees had. While my sword would have a bit of difficulty piercing hard leather, I was stronger than an average human swordsman. Orc physiology, for the win! The sword cut through the leather like a hot knife through stiff paper. The bandit cried out before I stabbed him again, and he sank with a mute whimper. The other bandits rushed at me. Before I knew it, I was seeing red.

The fight was pretty straightforward. Bash, stab, deflect―rinse and repeat. Madeekus was a storm of steel, scales and profanity, swinging his greatsword and huge tail like they weren't deadly weapons. Jenessa made it to the line of archers and cut them apart.

By the end, the three of us were breathing heavily. Bloodied and tired, yes. But alive.

I looked at them. Three arrows wounds on Jenessa, two on Madeekus. Innumerable cuts and bruises on all three of us. Still, I couldn't help but to grin an orcish grin. "Well," I said, casting a cursory glance at the score of bodies around us. "All according to plan."

Madeekus huffed. "Fuck you."

xxx

"I can't believe we survived," I said after the adrenaline wore off.

"We were lucky. The archers were poorly trained. If they were any better, they would have killed us from the treetops when we were unaware of their presence."

Madeekus winced as Jenessa pulled the arrow from his arm. "Careful, lady!"

"Oh, don't be such a big baby."

"Can't believe I didn't see that trap."

"It was for the best. We would have lost if we fought in the caves."

"I guess so. But, man that was bad."

Madeekus clenched his fist. The muscle in his forearm flexed. "Well, look at it this way," he said. "We got lucky and walked out alive. At least there weren't any mages."

Jenessa and I agreed.

xxx

We borrowed a cart and a horse from Valga and had the beast cart our loot back to the city. Jenessa took care of retrieving the bounty—which had grown to five hundred coins after the raid—by gleefully collecting the figures of the ones we killed. We were all one thousand and fifteen coins richer after all the haggling was done with Lod and the merchants. Madeekus walked away with a new set of armor, Jenessa a sword she fancied.

And me?

"This appears to be a spell book..."

"Mine! Gimme!"

Spell books, unlike in the game, were textbooks that taught a specific college of magic. The one we found at the hideout was for alteration journeymen. I couldn't make heads or tails of it. I needed to study alteration magic for novices and apprentices first.

And what interest Malkus lacked in the magic department Dan made up for _in spades._

The book being too advanced didn't dissuade my efforts, though.

I found myself standing outside the door of the Jarl's court mage. I glanced at the guards stationed inside the Jarl's longhouse. They watched me with wary stares. My eyes turned to the throne behind a pair of guards. Rumors of Siddgeir's absentee leadership held true. It was empty even in the afternoon. Not my business, though. I was here for the mage.

I knocked on the door firmly. Once, then twice.

To my surprise, an Altmer woman answered. She looked a bit weary, but it was hard to tell by her race's golden skin and sharp features. This was Nenya.

"Yes? Do you need something?" she asked.

"I am a customer. Do you have any textbooks for novice mages?"

She studied me for a moment. "It's one hundred pieces a book." A pause. "If you prove to be a gifted student, it will be for free."

I raised a brow. "Mind if I ask why?"

"I have been looking for an apprentice. For a while now."

"Hard to find one in Skyrim. More so nowadays."

She nodded before gesturing me inside. Her room—or maybe it was her office—had shelves filled with books. Most of them seemed magical in nature. There was a desk at the center of the room. The rooms at the back I assumed were her bedroom and laboratory... or whatever they were called. Nenya walked to her bookshelf and pulled out a few books.

"Can you name all the schools of magic?" she asked.

"Alteration, conjuration, destruction, illusion and restoration."

She nodded in approval. "Good. You're not starting off blind." She flipped open a book and pointed to a page. "Cast this spell."

It was a restoration book. A basic ward spell.

"I don't know how to use magic. That's why I'm here."

Nenya frowned. I got this whole strict-summer-school-teacher vibe from her. "Very well. Sit and take that ridiculous armor off." She gestured to the chair on the other side of her desk before pouring me... a cup of tea. "We'll start with the basics."


	5. Chapter 5

CHOSEN - 1.5

"Malkus. Malkus, wake up."

I yawned. What time was it? I found Jenessa in my room dressed in her leathers. "What's up? Maddy snoring or something?"

She cracked a smile before she donned her mask of stoicism. "Bandits again. Another raid. Get dressed."

Another? "I thought we took them all out."

"Apparently we did not."

"Well, darn."

I stumbled to the corner of the room where my gear was. Nenya had a stroke of sympathy after she learned of my recent injuries and cast a healing spell on me. It was enough to close up all the wounds I had gotten so far, though they still remained a bit sore. The downside to her teaching? I was five hundred gold lighter, and I had a perfectionist of a teacher breathing down my neck. What I lacked in talent I made up for with effort, or so I hoped. If I didn't end up a decent mage, I'd be crushed.

I donned my chainmail. Steel armor over that. Jenessa helped. We were in the lobby of the Dead Man's Drink in two minutes flat. Madeekus was there in his own gear, waiting.

"Hey Maddy."

"Malkus," he said with a nod.

"You healed up yet, Jen?" I eyed the bandages peering from beneath Jenessa's armor.

"I… am not in the best condition, but I will get by."

That worried me. "Well. Be careful."

"I will."

I tightened the straps on my shield before easing the door open. Unlike last time, we didn't hear anything as we left the Dead Man's Drink. No shouts, no curses, no ringing of steel. I would've called Jenessa a liar were it not for the corpses of guards strewn about the ground. Some were charred, others covered in frost. There were a few body parts here and there. Worst of all, I couldn't find a single bandit corpse.

"Mages," Jenessa muttered.

Madeekus scanned the streets. "I can't hear much fighting."

"Tis unlikely for there to be fighting. Just slaughter."

That worried me. I wasn't sure if Nenya was around to help―she had struck me as more of a scholar than a fighter. And magic? From Malkus's memories regarding mages, I didn't expect myself to get out of this unscathed.

But I couldn't just dive back into the Drink and hide.

"Well, we can't just stand here looking pretty," I said. Off we went.

xxx

Much to my dismay, it was me back at point. We all explored the streets very carefully, checking and double-checking for mages before moving to the next.

Suddenly, Jenessa froze.

"I heard something."

And following her words, I heard a high-pitched whistle of sorts. An orange glow cast my shadow to the right, and I raised my shield just before I turned. Not that it mattered, really. A heavy impact shook my shield arm as a train shoved my shield into me hard enough to lift me off the ground and throw me several meters away. There was nothing save heat, pain and the ground at my back. I saw more stars than were there in the night sky. My first coherent thought: that was magic, a fireball. I didn't need anyone to tell me. I _knew_ from the way my arm was twitching, the way smoke drifted upwards from my board, the way small flames danced around me. It was magic, the kind of power that overshadowed even the might of an orc warrior like Malkus.

I lay there, unmoving as I tried to reestablish my bearings. In other words, I was practically a sitting duck. Alive, somehow, but more injured than ever.

As the ringing in my ears cleared, I heard a voice speak.

"―ing orc. Must be one of the mercs that cleared out the other place," it said.

Another spoke. "There's the argonian, too."

"How many were left? A dunmer, right?" the first voice asked.

I heard a soft growl and the sound of two meaty twacks. I saw movement at the bottom of my vision and―"Malkus? You alright?"

It was Madeekus. The right side of his face was charred and bleeding.

I coughed. "I think so."

"You're a mess. C'mon. Can you stand?." He hoisted me onto my feet. I wobbled a bit. "Holy hell, those mages. They got us with a fireball. I think I saw Jenessa make a run for it, but I couldn't get away." He paused. "Your shield?"

It had seen better days.

There was a large scorch mark where the fireball hit. It wasn't too hot, but the impact of the fireball had dented the thing. Still in one piece, though.

"Don't think it'd be much help against mages," I said.

"Keep it on in case there are archers around."

"I think my arm is broken." I moved it. "Nevermind. It just hurts really bad."

"You're an orc. Suck it up."

Orc or not, my arm hurt. It was a good thing Madeekus took action as quickly as he did or else we might be dead. At least I would have been. And that experience only confirmed that even an orc couldn't take a fireball head on without getting knocked around. The sheer overwhelming power of magic was a thing to be feared.

"Damn. Lost my sword. Ah, well." I took out my hatchet from my belt.

"We'll have to be careful."

"Aye." I looked around us. We needed cover. My shield was practically paper here, so I had to use the houses. "Keep near the houses and try to get the jump on them?"

Madeekus nodded.

I fished out a health potion from my belt, thankfully intact. It tasted terrible. Maybe the taste was a deterrent, a way to encourage folks _not_ to get injured. As the aftertaste faded, I could feel a rejuvenating warmth flood my body.

Good enough.

xxx

We hid the two mages' bodies―a breton and an altmer―behind a couple of crates. Last thing we needed was for whatever other mages that were around to be wary of us. We kept to the shadows, relying on our ears and the darkness to give us the advantage.

Then we spotted four in a street. Their robes gave them away as mages.

"Four there, coming this way," I muttered. Madeekus nodded. The mages were on our side of the street, close enough that I could reach them when they passed us. And if we couldn't kill all four before they started casting, we needed to get the fuck out of the way. I had no intention of ending up a charred orc.

I counted the seconds in my head.

_Three._

I heard their voices talking to each other.

_Two._

Their footsteps.

_One._

Their breathing.

And then I sprung out from the alley, bashing the closest one's face with a shield, grabbing the next by the neck and throwing him to the ground, and swinging my hatchet at the throat of a third. Madeekus followed up, smashing his tail across the unprotected chest of the fourth mage and gutting one of the mages on the ground. The guy I bashed with a shield staggered around until I hit him with my hatchet. I found Madeekus finishing off the last mage when I was done.

"This needs to happen more often," I said.

Madeekus smirked. "We need to get these four out of sight."

I grabbed two by their legs and dragged them away. When we shoved them out of sight, we went back to sneaking.

xxx

Our next encounter wasn't so lucky. Madeekus was right about my shield. The main street―the street that led to the city's gates―was covered in bandits. Bandits in full heavy armor, archers on the roofs, mages here and there. I counted thirty at the least. There was no way we'd go in there and come back out alive.

I watched them round up all the townsfolk onto the street.

Men, mostly. A few of the elderly. No women or children. I didn't need to ask why.

"We have to go," Madeekus said. "Before their patrols spot us."

"Yeah."

I felt like a piece of shit turning away. There were people I recognized in the crowd. But when I did sneak away, another part of me was just happy to be alive.

xxx

We escaped the city with relative ease. We circled around the mages, killed and hid a couple, and snuck off through the graveyard north of the city. To our surprise―well, not really―we found Jenessa waiting for us off the road in the forest.

"Nice to see you two made it out," she said.

"How was it?" I asked.

"Bad. I killed a few of their mages, but there were too many to make a difference."

"Any idea how to clear them out?"

"I know a few poisons."

I frowned. "How about the townsfolk?"

"I know a few antidotes."

I looked at Madeekus. He shrugged. I thought for a moment. "Well, feels better than leaving them in there. What's the plan?"

"Sneak it into their water. Or food," Madeekus suggested. "Wait till all the bandits freeze up and clean them out before the poison wears off. Not like we can fight them off otherwise. At least not without a mage."

Jenessa nodded. "I can get back into the city. And deliver the poison."

I was getting antsy. I hadn't been in Falkreath for long, but just knowing that a quiet yet lively city like that was under occupation by _bandits_ didn't settle well with me. "We have to make sure there won't be any more bandits where they came from. I… _think_ I can figure out where they came from."

"I'll help. Won't be much use sneaking in heavy armor."

Jenessa nodded again. "Very well."

"Try not to die."

"The same to you two."

"Kill a bunch of them for me. My arm still tingles from that fireball."

The moonlight lit Jenessa's face. For the first time since we met―only ten days ago―I took a real close look at her. Her skin was the color of stone. Soft and rough. The warpaint she had resembled a skull, painted in a tone of white slightly lighter than her skin color. Straight dark hair hung at shoulder length over one side of her face, undone by the fighting moments before. The rest was tied in a horizontal braid that gave her look a touch of human. The moment passed when she grinned, her skull warpaint shifting to do the same. With her red eyes, she looked like beautiful, murderous death.

"It'll be my pleasure, sera," she said. Then she turned and vanished into the forest, headed back into the city.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Well, Maddy. We've got work to do."

xxx

Madeekus, it turned out, was a pretty scary lizard..

His scales were the right shade of green that camouflaged into the trees in the day. At night, it was nearly impossible to see him; he moved with a silent gait that didn't belong with an argonian of his size. The only detail that would betray his presence at night would be his eyes, two orbs a mix of gold and bright yellow that lay beneath the ridge of spines that formed his brow.

And then there was the sheer size of this guy.

A part of my mind equated him to Malkus himself. Madeekus was taller than me. Broader. Had arms as thick as Jenessa's head. All muscle, too. _That_ combined with a keen knowledge sharpened by years of experience as a bounty hunter made him a dangerous foe.

A dangerous foe and a formidable ally.

His jibing aside, he was reliable. He was the one who pointed out the bandit's route to the city. It led towards the east of Falkreath. A winding path of broken branches, bent stems and crushed grass led us to a cave hidden along the cliffs near a river. A bit northeast―about two hours of travel―would get us to Helgen's gates. We had half a thought to ask the guards stationed at Helgen for help, but by the time they scrape together a decent force―if they would at all―Falkreath would be long gone, Jenessa's poison or not.

"I'll take point this time," Madeekus said with a snicker, bring his greatsword to bear. "Wouldn't want you to give us away again."

I rolled my eyes. "Have fun with the traps. And the shit."

He chuckled under his breath. The dented remains of his plate armor squeaked softly as he entered the darkness. Even without a shield, he'd be fine. And the few fireballs aimed my way, the better.

I took a deep breath of fresh air before following.

* * *

><p><em>an: I am downloading Dragon Age: Inquisition at the moment this chapter is being posted. Life = paused._


	6. Chapter 6

CHOSEN - 1.6

No plan survived first contact with the enemy. Ours was no different.

The cave started as a narrow tunnel, curving thrice before we reached the first cavern. No traps, thankfully. The bandits didn't need one; the cavern had a raised platform built of wood extending from an alcove above. The wooden steps leading to it were tall and rickety. In the light provided by torch sconces, we spotted two archers and a mage on that platform, as well as a couple of bandits in heavy armor playing dice on ground level. It didn't take a genius to know this was going to be bad.

"I can kill the mage from here if I'm lucky," I said quietly.

"You can try, but if you miss we're doomed."

"Then pray I don't miss."

I crept to the mouth of the cavern and lined a shot with my hatchet. The mage was talking to one of the archers. It didn't seem to hard of a throw.

I took a quick breath and threw.

The hatchet cut through the air and struck the mage bit first in the back. It might have cut through his spinal cord, as the mage immediately slackened and fell backwards off the platform. Both archers climbed down from the platform and rushed to check up on him. It was then Madeekus chose to attack.

He rushed out like a bolt of green, his greatsword plunging into the back of one of the heavy bandits before pulling it out and gutting an archer. The last heavy reacted and locked swords with him while the last archer scrambled for her bow. I was out before she could call for help. Seeks-the-Sun's knife cut into her throat right before I shoved her against the cavern wall. Life bled from her eyes right as I noted how pretty she was for a bandit. I hit the last bandit with the knife and Madeekus finished him off.

"That was too close," he hissed. A thin and long tongue lashed out from a maw of sharp teeth, licking a cut along his arm.

I retrieved my hatchet from the mage's corpse. It were there I spotted something.

"Look at this. A staff. Enchanted, I think."

It was a stick about one and a half meters long. It felt cold and weighty in my hands. Steel? A ruby rested on the head, where the steel curved into a stylistic dragon.

"It was the mage's."

"Maybe it's still charged."

There was a shout from the tunnel leading deeper into the cave. Madeekus _moved_, getting himself next to the tunnel in the blind spot of the exit. I climbed up the steps to the platform and stayed out of sight.

When the first bandit emerged, Madeekus swiftly cut him down from behind.

The bandit that followed met the same fate.

The third, however, saw his peer go down and backed off. Instead, another bandit in heavy armor and a shield charged out.

It was a furious fight then. As Madeekus fended off the shield bandit, several others—a couple with bows, one or two with swords. Then a mage. I picked my target, poured my magicka into the staff and pointed. Nothing. Right… didn't staves use their own power source? Soul gems? Assuming the staff's previous owner wasn't such a twit as to keep the thing out of juice, I should have been able to use it. It should still have power—I just needed to use it correctly. I turned on the magicka sensing that Nenya drilled into me only hours ago. The magicka inside me was like a puddle of warm water. I reached outwards with that sense, concentrating on the staff until I felt _something_ akin to magicka.

Now how was I supposed to—_ooooh._

I pointed the staff again, my senses still concentrated on it, and pressed my thumb into the rune etched at the neck. Lightning flashed off the head, striking one of the archers—an imperial—ready to fire. A tiny thunderclap followed immediately after.

The archer shuddered violently as he hit the ground. A web of pink lines and red dots covered the back of his neck.

The cavern turned eerily quiet for a second.

Only a second.

I ducked before an arrow sailed past where my head was. There was a shout down below I didn't quite make out. I rained lightning down blindly until a man ran up the steps to the platform. A dirty-looking nord. Leathers. Dagger. I whirled and swung the staff like a golf club at his leg. He leapt back to avoid it, and I kicked him in the chest the second he landed. As he fell down the steps, I shot him with a bolt of lightning. I was _pretty_ sure he was dead. I went back to the fight, shooting a couple more bolts of lightning before going down there to ease pressure off of Madeekus. He was looking worn out; his heavy armor earned a few more dents, and there was a dagger protruding from one of the gaps.

I clubbed a guy on the back of his head just as the rest of the bandits began retreating deeper into the cavern. Lightning chased them and took down a couple.

When we were relatively safe, I checked up on Madeekus.

"You okay, Maddy?"

"Nothin' alcohol won't fix." His voice was hoarse. I extracted a health potion from my belt and shoved it in his hands. "Thanks."

"Good thing this staff worked."

"How long will it last?" he asked after chugging the potion.

I was stabbing the bodies with my knife just in case. "Dunno. Long enough, I hope."

"About six managed to escape." Yellow, slitted eyes counted the fallen. "We got twelve."

"So there's at least six in there waiting for us."

"There is definitely a trap now."

If there were any more bandits in there, we wouldn't be able to take care of them without sustaining some crippling injuries, lightning staff or not. They knew we were coming now. That was all the advantage they needed.

"You think this cave has another exit?" I asked.

"I don't _think_ so."

"Maybe we can smoke them out."

"What?"

I went back to the platform and began tearing out the planks. I left a pile at the mouth of the second tunnel. Anything flammable went in, especially the piles of hay lying around—the bandits must've slept on them. When it was all done, I grabbed one of the torches and lit the pile on fire.

It worked. Sort of.

The fire produced a great amount of black smoke. Most of it went into the tunnel and, hopefully, into whatever caverns the bandits had in there. The idea was to beat the bandits by either suffocation them or by forcing them out here and killing them off.

Why did it only kind of work?

Because the cavern we were in was getting a lot of smoke, too.

I breathed through a piece of soaked cloth. Still, the heat and smoke stung my eyes. The fire was roaring now. Enough so that the whole tunnel was blocked off by fire. I heard shouts echo off the walls of the cave.

A figure leapt through the flames. Madeekus cut him down.

Another jumped through. I cut him down.

Two this time. We got one each.

Then our plans went to hell. A blast of white blew past the fire, extinguishing it with the chill of winter. A crackle of lightning flashed past the smoke, striking Madeekus by the arm and leaving him a writhing mess on the floor. I had enough presence of mind to _keep my shield up_ and cover the entrance with it. I heard a couple of arrows thunk into it before I push my staff out and fired. Light flashed bright and I think I hit something.

The _wrong_ something. A fiery glow cast a shadow behind me and I found myself buffeted by a stream of fire. It wasn't too bad until a painful tingle ran through my shield arm, like pins and needles stabbing into my skin from the inside. That feeling ran through my shield arm, through my shoulder blades, and into the arm holding my staff. I stepped aside, watching lightning crack continuously through the air alongside a gout of fire. I _tanked_ that? Orc physiology was quite something. I cast a glance to where Madeekus was, lying motionless against the cavern wall. I had no time to worry about him as the rest of the bandits emerged from the tunnel.

No talk this time either.

I charged forward, bashing the guy up front with my shield before lightning took him down. The one behind him stabbed at me with a dagger. Block and lightning.

I kept the shield up and shot more lightning into the tunnel. There was a mage in there—that much I knew—and I hoped to get him down before he could magic me. Through the thinning smoke of the extinguished wood pile, I spotted the mage step out from the curve in the tunnel with a shimmering ward in hand.

_Shit._

Lightning from my staff struck his ward again and again. In return, he fired his own spells from his free hand. I caught a few firebolts on my shield.

"Give up, orc! You cannot best me!" the mage hollered.

"Fuck you and your mom!" I answered.

And at the worst time, my staff ran out of power.

With a roar the mage dropped his shield and blasted me with two bolts of lightning. There was enough juice this time that I flew back, hitting the cavern wall as the shocks race up my arms to everywhere else. White-hot needles stabbed everywhere, leaving me numb and sweating. Frost coalesced on the mage's hands. _Shiiiit._

Then Madeekus was there, his greatsword running through the mage from behind.

With a bloody choke, the mage slackened.

Madeekus dropped his arms. "That was worse than it should have—"

"Down!"

The argonian, to his credit, crashed flat onto the floor. A tingling arm of mine yanked out my hatchet from its ring on my belt and chucked it at the archer that stepped out from her hiding spot at the mouth of the tunnel. She hit the wall and a pool of blood gathered around her. Her bow and notched arrow clattered on the floor.

I huffed. "_Now_ we rest."

xxx

It took a couple health potions for the both of us to recover enough to move. One thing the game didn't implement—to my relief and my dismay—was exactly how devastating bolts of lightning were to the flesh.

If Madeekus and I were humans, we'd already be dead.

The both of us were tense when as we ventured further into the cave, expecting more enemies to ambush us. We didn't find any, thankfully. And if Jenessa held up her end of the plan, none would. And to add a positive side to this, I didn't find any traps. Not a tripwire, rock fall or loaded spring anywhere. Instead, there was armor and weapons by the crateful stashed in what must have been the armory. Enough to make us reasonably wealthy. What grabbed my attention, though, were the staves and magic books in one of the rooms. Not a library, but certainly more than what I had.

Alas, my fun was cut short when Madeekus called.

He was in a dim cavern with a wooden table at the center. Maps hung on the wall, depicting various parts of Skyrim. On the table was a map of Falkreath with a few ominous mark across the landscape.

We were at one of those marks.

"What do you make of this?" Madeekus asked.

"It looks like a battle plan." I traced the dotted arrow that led from our position to Falkreath. "Troop movements." There was another dotted line pointed to Falkreath. It originated from a mark on the western side of Falkreath. "That was the place we hit a few days ago, after the bandits' first attack."

"It is." A clawed finger pointed to mark where we were. "And this is where we are. These marks might represent where the hideouts are."

"That's what I thought. Five hideouts in all."

"The question I have is," Madeekus said as he pointed to the other dotted lines that surrounded Falkreath, "why didn't they attack at once? Both forces combined would have defeated the city. Five would have taken over without a problem."

"I… don't know. Maybe it's on purpose."

"What do you mean?"

"It's deception. If they attack separately, we'd never suspect them to be an army."

Madeekus pondered for a moment. An argonian didn't have much of a thinking face; he looked like he was staring into nothingness. "And if we didn't know they had an army, then we wouldn't go after them. There would be no effort in retaliating." I nodded. "Then why did they occupy the city?"

It was a good question. "Maybe it's because we cleaned out one of their hideouts."

The argonian's jaw snapped shut. "They thought we knew."

I nodded. I was feeling a bit shaky at my own revelation, but I didn't stop. "They thought we found out, so they pushed their plans forward."

"But this is… _war._"

_Civil war._

_Ulfric Stormcloak._

I sorted through the other documents in the room until I found a creased note at the bottom of a stack of papers.

It was a missive addressed to a local mercenary company. Not the Companions. The Golden Suns. _Establish a presence in Falkreath Hold. Guerilla tactics. Deplete the guard. Exhaust reinforcements. Soften the target before the war. _And at the bottom, after listing the gold sent in advance, was the signature of one Galmar Stone-fist. Motherfuckers would have won the war if this worked. A weakened Falkreath would have gotten wrecked by the Stormcloaks. And with Falkreath under Stormcloak control, Ulfric would have cut off the Empire's forces from Cyrodiil and taken Solitude.

The rest of the war would have been a war of attrition, with Skyrim resisting the Empire until the Empire's population would lose interest. It would have been a matter of time. And then Skyrim would be independent.

A lot of this was speculation, but one thing was for certain: whatever this was, I was caught up in the middle of it.

I felt a headache coming.


	7. Chapter 7

CHOSEN - 1.7

Neither Madeekus nor I were in any condition to work any harder. Even the argonian's acclaimed physiology couldn't keep up with all the punishment the both of us went through. His shuffling was a testament to how exhausted he was. But both of us knew what was in store for Falkreath—and Jenessa—and for one reason or another couldn't simply look away. For me it was loyalty: abandonment left a bad taste in my mouth. I wasn't sure about Madeekus, but his uncanny grasp on the military and general skillset left me the impression that he had been more than a bounty hunter in his earlier years. A soldier, maybe?

The topic never came up as we trudged back through the forest, recovered documents in hand. It was a silent, rushed trip back. Through the gaps in the leaves we saw the growing light of dawn, a stain of orange on the mountainous horizon and the bellies of clouds in an otherwise blue sky.

It was an odd moment to admire the scenic beauty Skyrim had to offer, but I did. It helped alleviate the stress I had building in me since last night.

A distraction was just a distraction. We reached the walls of Falkreath when the sun rose over the mountains. The men on the walls weren't bandits. They were Falkreath guards in their dark blue Hold sashes and chainmail. They had their bows trained on the both of us. I waved to them, Madeekus trailing behind me, until one of them recognized me.

"Go on ahead, orc. It's a right mess in there," the guard said.

The gates were in splinters. An angry scorch marked the sides of the gates. The mages from last night must have blasted the damn doors open.

The city itself was in surprisingly good condition. Last night's raiders seemed to understand the need to take the city, not destroy it. There were potholes in the street and the occasional damaged house, but nothing overly destructive.

And no corpses.

We found Jenessa in the Dead Man's Drink. She was nursing a drink until we came in. Blood red eyes jumped from me to Madeekus and back again before she nodded in acknowledgement. At first glance, I couldn't tell that she had single-handedly taken out all the bandits that occupied the city last night. But as we drew near I noticed the little things: dried blood on her leathers, the darker bags beneath her eyes, her slumped back. She was tired too.

"I take it everything went well," she said.

I nodded. "On your end too, I see."

Madeekus mumbled something before stumbling into his room. I suspected he'd fall straight asleep. I took out the documents we snatched and lay them on the table.

"Our problems aren't over yet."

Jenessa's tired eyes ran over the papers. She was without her usual professionalism. When she was done she took another drink from her flagon.

"Where did you get these?" she asked.

"The base we hit."

"This is bad." Smart woman, she was. Then again, I didn't expect her to be as lethal as she was without some insight on these things. "The city can't take another hit. There are only a few guards left, and the three of us can't stand against this many bandits."

"Not bandits. Found evidence that these guys are mercenaries under Ulfric."

"The Jarl of Windhelm? By Azura." She sighed.

"We also found a lot of loot down at the hideout. Weapons and armor. Staves."

"We can hardly sell it at this point."

"I'm not talking about selling. There's probably enough equipment there to arm a good number of the citizens."

She looked up from the papers at me. There was an analytical stare that I hadn't seen since we first met. She was evaluating me. For what, though, I had no idea. "Do you think simply arming the townsfolk will be enough to resist the bandits?" she said with a cold edge in her words. "Not everyone can take a sword and swing it with purpose."

Not everyone had what it took to take a life. Dan knew. _I knew._

"I know. I mean the ones that are willing. And the guards. Quite frankly, I can't think of a way to defend the city in so little time."

Jenessa looked distant.

"I was an assassin once," she said, "of the Dark Brotherhood." What? Really? Well… that explained her skills. And quirks. "When I was a child, my mother was killed by nords. I summoned the Brotherhood and had those men killed."

She took a deep breath, then a deep drink. She continued. "I was taken in as a disciple of theirs. I sought a way to protect myself. In the Sanctuary, I learned the art of killing." A thin smile grew on her. "I was good at it, they told me. I could kill a mark without a problem." The smile faded, replaced with a forlorn expression. It was the most expression I've seen on her since I met her. "But after a job one day, I found a child crying in the corner of the house. I had killed his parents. It was then I realized what I had become. I became like the men that had taken my parents away.

"I became disgusted with myself. I left the Brotherhood and tried to stop killing. But…" She looked at her hands. "Killing is all I know. I made it my job.

"And yet, last night, when I liberated the city from the bandits, I… felt good about it."

"You want to protect them."

She didn't say anything, but I knew her answer. I felt intensely sorry for her until I remember who I was talking to. I didn't know much about Jenessa, and yet I felt the last thing she would have wanted was my pity.

"We can have a courier go to Helgen for help," I suggested. "Or even send people there for refuge. But I do believe we should keep the Golden Suns from taking the city."

"Yes. I think so too. And that's what I hate the most."

_Sacrifice the few to save the many._

"I hate it too."

xxx

Were this a game, we'd have the whole town up in arms to fight off the attackers. Armed to the teeth, we would hold the enemy at chokes thanks to the brilliant tactical thinking of their player commander and pull a win out of our asses.

The reality was that most of the people of Falkreath were more concerned about their own well being rather than of the strategic value of the city. Most of them couldn't grasp the bigger picture, nor did they understand anything about the world beyond the walls of the city. They were pretty darn stupid in the worst possible way. Twenty-first century education was far from perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than whatever Skyrim offered in the Fourth Era.

Of course, I didn't voice my opinion. I kept my mouth shut.

That was how far south the plan went.

The town meeting we called went something like this:

"Mercenaries are coming to take the city."

"Get the guards to do something."

"There aren't enough guards."

"What will the mercenaries do to us?"

"If they're nice? Kill or capture the guards, keep the townsfolk under watch."

"What's so bad about that?"

"Are you daft? They're never nice."

"What do we do?"

"Help protect the city or flee to Helgen."

"I don't want to die!"

"Then go to Helgen."

"But I don't want to leave."

"Then protect the city."

"But I don't want to die!"

There was more cursing, swearing, shouting, racist remarks, praying and general chaos, but that was the gist of the meeting. Perhaps it was a fault of mine to expect anything from common folk. Dan would likely have been just as indecisive. Malkus was the driving aspect of my personality here.

"I think this is for the best," Madeekus said as the crowd dispersed. "They hardly know how to fight."

I wasn't very happy about the outcome. "I guess."

"There will likely be scouts coming ahead of the main force," Jenessa said. "We should intercept them. Help the guards escort the townsfolk to Helgen."

I sighed. I wanted to say how terrible an idea running away was. Sure, we wouldn't have to fight. But there were other problems to deal with, and those problems neither Jenessa, Madeekus nor I were suited to deal with—_politics._ Because on one hand, we can hope the folks at Helgen would find it in their hearts to accommodate the hundred plus population from Falkreath at their own expense. On the other hand, we can expect to pay them—for living expenses, inconvenience, soldiers, _good fucking will_—and not having enough to offer. Without the Jarl around, the ones the Falkreath townsfolk were likely to target for their complaints would be the most competent-looking ones around.

Even Malkus didn't look forward to that.

"I still think we should stick around and fight," I said. "We aren't prepared to move. And we're definitely not prepared to take care of them."

"I agree." The three of us turned. Nenya approached us with several guards in tow. She gave me a curt nod before addressing Jenessa. There was a fresh scar on her right cheek. "Thank you for your assistance last night. If I had known you drugged them, I would have let you do your work." She extended a hand. "May I see those documents?"

_How did she know?_

Nenya maintained a calm stare that resembled a frown. An altmer always looked angry. "I overheard you. Now please."

I handed them to her.

She glanced over them, stopping at the letter Stone-fist had written before studying the map of troop movements. "Malkus is right," she said, tracing an invisible line on the map down to Falkreath. "We don't have enough guards left to protect the whole town if they were to move to Helgen. If the Golden Suns catch up to us outside the walls, we are all doomed." She handed the documents back to me. "I ask for the help of you three."

Madeekus was wary. "The three of us can't fight off that many."

"There is a way. There is a pass north of here. If that map is correct, the Golden Suns will going through that pass to get to here. We can ambush them there."

"Where?"

I pulled out the map again. Nenya pointed to a spot in the road that ran out the west gate that bent northward. "There."

"And these are mountains?"

"Rocky hills. They are difficult to circle."

"So we take groups and attack them from the cliffs?"

"Ideally, yes. I have enough staves to arm us."

I stared at the map, feeling a bit of hope grow in my chest. It _could_ work. Magic was powerful enough, after all. If the terrain was to our advantage, the heavies and even the archers wouldn't be a threat. "What about their mages?" I asked. "They're bound to have them."

"It will be of little issue," Nenya explained. "We set up runes in waves in their path. When they hit the first line of runes, we attack with magic. We aim for as wide of a spread as possible. The mages will use their wards to protect themselves. Those of us with bows will shoot them down. We continue to bombard them until they either retreat or advance.

"If they advance, the next lines of runes will break them. We can finish them off much more easily afterwards. If they retreat, we inflict as much damage as to prevent them from returning."

"That sounds too good to be true."

Nenya allowed herself a thin smile. "Magic is the greatest weapon for a sharp mind."

"This plan of yours is highly reliant on the high ground," Madeekus interjected. "If the Suns are any good, they'd send scouts to control the pass. We'd lose the initiative on them."

"The only way to control the pass is to climb it from the south. There is no path from the north." The argonian said nothing, though it was obvious he didn't like it. Nenya pressed on. "We cannot guarantee that the civilians will be safe outside these walls. Helgen may not even take these refugees. When that happens, these townsfolk will either starve or riot. They will be arrested or put down."

"Fine," Madeekus hissed. The tone of his voice told me he was upset.

If Nenya noticed, she said nothing about it. "Thank you. Of course, with my authority as the Jarl's stand-in, the three of you will be rewarded quite generously for your troubles."

Madeekus's tail swished with the grace of an angry crocodile.

"We better."

* * *

><p><em>an: Okay, this is all I have so far. Still chipping away at Dragon Age: Inquisition so... yeah._


End file.
